Necessary Changes
by Sonic Key
Summary: For eons, the Kaleds and the Thals co-existed on Skaro. However, the premature death of the Kaled leader causes a civil war to break out in their cities. The Thals see this as an opportunity to overthrow them, and attack. With their outer cities in ruins, the Kaleds seek a solution to put down their enemies once and for all. Their solution begins with a child.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is an updated version of my old fanfiction; I didn't like the way the old one was going, and since I hadn't updated in a few years it was best to start fresh. That being said, I'd love to hear what you think of this one, whether it's good or bad. There's always room for improvement!**

 **This story is an AU, and starts out just before the Kaled/Thal war begins. I'm still having the Doctor make an appearance in the future, but this will be mainly centered on Skaro's, or more specifically Davros', history. It shouldn't be too terribly different from the original storyline, but there will be a few key differences.**

 **Disclaimer: All characters belong to the BBC and friends, I make no claim on any Doctor Who related material.**

* * *

" _The planet was a sterile monument to mechanization. One city dominated the skyline; its cold spires reaching into the dark sky. Inside the city, stainless steel corridors, empty of life, stretched for miles. Other than the city, the planet was a blasted wasteland, the results of thousands of years of war between its two dominant species. One a lush, earth like world, now, other than the city, it harboured terrors that would blast the mind of any normal sentient being. The race that had won the war now ran its vast galactic empire from the planet, called Skaro. Greedy for conquest, the rulers, mutated beyond recognition, exiled to travel machines, were called Daleks. They were one of the deadliest races known to exist. Brilliant beyond comprehension, they were also avaricious and evil. They existed for one thing: conquest."_

 _Doctor Who: The Alliance by Rob Morganbesser (credit goes to original author; they're welcome to tell me to remove this)_

Everything has a beginning, even the Daleks. As it can be expected of a race such as theirs, it is not a wonderous beginning that inspires awe in listeners. For they came into existence as a result of desperation; the desperation of a race struggling to survive on the atomic wasteland their planet had become.

The Daleks were an idea before they were a race. A young man by the name of Davros first considered the idea of a higher form of life, adaptable to any and all conditions. The idea grew until he became obsessed with making it a reality - and thus the Daleks were born. Out of war and death.

This tale goes back to a time when Skaro was a thriving planet, similar to Earth, and ideas of war and unrest were only just starting to take root.

xxxxxxx

Calcula watched the care of her newborn anxiously. He was only on the other side of the glass, but could have been worlds away. The machines caring for him were perfect in their movements and reactions, but Calcula kept a close eye. He was to be her first child, and she didn't want anything to go wrong.

"My Lady?" A nurse stood patiently behind her, looking to be a part of the walls and floor in her crisp white uniform.

She nodded in response, still keeping on eye on the machines and her baby.

"You will be sent word when your child is ready. The birthing process was difficult, and it is yet unknown what condition your child will be in upon awakening." The nurse's tone was calm, pierce, and bordered on robotic. Completely detached from any emotion the announcement might have provoked.

"Will he survive?" Calcula's own tone was sharp, and demanded answer. She was a lady of the court, not some common woman to be kept in the dark.

"The child has an 80% chance of survival, and a 10% chance of being able to walk." The nurse paused briefly, and then gestured towards an adjacent room. "You may wait in there until the doctor comes to give you a report."

Calcula knew it was better to have nurses emotionally distant from their jobs rather than involved in them, as it meant more efficiency. She had been one of the members of the court who voted to put such a thing in place, but it was an entirely different thing to have your own child spoken of in percentages.

She took on seat on one of the chairs, staring unseeingly out at the lavish garden. For all the cold efficiency hospitals had, they had beautiful gardens and landscaping. Skaro itself was a lush planet, and saw a fair amount of visitors, eager to see the plant that only existed deep within its jungles, or walk along the river that glowed under the light of the moon.

Yet even Skaro's flora couldn't distract Calcula from the situation she found herself in. Even if her baby did survive, it would be difficult for him. He had been conceived out of adultery, and was going to be a cripple, unable to walk. If anyone found out about her illegitimate relationship it would mean trouble for both her, his father, and the child himself. She was going to need to be careful going forward.

A polite knock and the door swung inward to admit an elderly Kaled. His eyes were young in contrast to the rest of him, and smile lines creased the corners of his eyes. Here was a doctor who had not had the life sucked out of him by the system.

"Would you please come with me, my Lady?" He sounded neither sorrowful or happy, yet Calcula allowed herself to feel a small spark of hope.

The doctor, who introduced himself as Doctor Nekel, brought her across the hall and into the room with the machines. They had ceased movement and appeared to be off; finished with their task.

Doctor Nekel carefully gave her the tiny bundle that was her son, a warm expression on his face. "You'll be happy to know the machines were able to keep your son alive. He has a long road

ahead of him, but with proper care he can be as healthy as any other child."

Calcula brushed back the blanket and met her son's eyes. There were a brilliant blue and seemed to already possess a certain degree of intelligence. She smiled down at him and felt a rush of pride. _You will accomplish great things, I am sure of it._

Doctor Nekel brought her out of the moment with a gentle touch on the arm. "There are a few things you must know, my Lady." He paused, his pause much different than the nurse's. "Your son will never be able to walk. He will be confined to some sort of mobile chair his entire life. I can call a nearby engineer to construct such a device, if you would like."

She frowned briefly before deciding it wouldn't matter. Intelligence wasn't measured by one's ability to walk. "That would be appreciated, thank you."

The doctor departed, leaving her alone with her son. Calcula looked down at her son, her own eyes dull and devoid of hope, even while his were full of life.

"Welcome to Skaro, Davros," she whispered. Davros meant 'little lord' in the old language of the Dals, a fitting name for someone born of a lord and a lady. She could only hope he would live up to his name.


	2. Chapter 2

A quiet mechanical whir was the only sound that disturbed the hallway of the Nasgard home. The sound preceded a bright-eyed, black haired boy of twelve years, confined to a chair for the rest of his life. The prospect of never walking did nothing to dampen the boy's natural curiosity. All of his free moments were spent in his lab, tinkering with anything and everything he could get his hands on. Which, due to his indulgent mother, was quite a lot of things.

The boy's name was Davros, and his mother was the Lady Calcula, a senator in the Kaled Council. His biological father was Colonel Nasgard, but there were whispers he had been born out of an illicit relationship between Calcula and another man. The identify of the other was alway disputed. And despite her publicized life, Calcula always managed to keep the truth of the matter secret.

The rumors did not bother Davros himself at all; there were only two things in his life that truly bothered him: people pitying him, and living a public life. In a sense, they were one in the same. As the son of a senator, whenever Calcula was called to appear somewhere or attend something, he was more often than not expected to accompany her. Should it have been allowed, Davros would much have rather have spent all his time in his lab; even going so far as to take meals there. He didn't have friends, and the only people he interacted with were those he was forced to. In his twelve years of experience, Davros had come to loathe the way his fellow Kaleds looked at him when they thought he wasn't looking, or even when he was. Their gazes were full of pity, or regret, or sadness. And they were always looking at his chair. It was as if they didn't consider him to be a person. He was only a machine. A poor machine, that would never walk. "A person's achievements outweigh anything else about them," he had told his mother, fuming after one such occasion.

As such, Davros spent every moment he could get in his lab, located in basement of Colonel Nasgard's large estate.

 _Fsshhh...pop! Fshhhhh_

A bright blue flame hissed and popped, emitting a paler blue smoke. It was carefully lowered to meet another flame, this one red. The two burning substances touched, and for an instant, burned purple.

 _FSSSHHH..BANG!_

A polite knock drew Davros' attention away from his current experiment. He sighed, attempting to smooth down his singed hair. How annoying. "What do you want?"

Draxon, their bulter, poked his head through the door.

"Your mother requests you prepare yourself for a dinner party, sir." His gaze fell briefly on Davros' ruffled hair and singed clothing.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. It had been a while since they had gone to a dinner, but he had hoped it would be longer than this. More than likely his mother would want him to talk to the other children his age - as if he had anything in common with them!

"Yes, I'll be up shortly."

True to his word, Davros soon emerged upstairs with neat hair and fresh clothing. His mother smiled at him, and he returned it politely. She knew he didn't enjoy these appearances, but appreciated that he did so anyway without much fuss.

"This one is just dinner with a few other families, it won't be as big as some others. Are you ready?"

He nodded, but without much enthusiasm. He definitely was going to be sat with other children his age, never mind he was as smart as all of them put together. None of the elder Kaleds considered him yet old enough for 'adult' conversation.

Davros pressed his palm down on his chair and it glided forward, out the door and towards the waiting hovocar.

The hovocar drew up to a lavish home, its walk lit by the new "pocket suns". The pocket suns were the size of one's hand, and the markets claimed they would last as long as a real sun. The suns had only been out for less than a standard week, yet most of the wealthy families already displayed them. They were like tiks, birds that made their nests out of shiny objects in order to show off to other tiks.

It was a very nice mansion, Davros thought, as his chair was lowered to the ground, but wasn't any different than any of the others he had seen. All flaunted their wealth in similar ways and kept closely to the trends set by other wealthy families. That was the real politics that went on in the government.

Calcula led the way up the path and to the sturdy doors. They looked like had been built to withstand a bombing; the only unique feature of this home. Were the owners merely trying to look different, or was their something more? It was interesting to consider.

His musing were cut short as the door hummed open, revealing a nicely-dressed couple. The woman's face lit up at the sight of them, and she drew his mother into an eager embrace.

"Calcula! It's been so long! Eight, nine years? Come in, come in!"

She ushered the group inside, and paused to look over Calcula with some degree of concern. She drew her a little away from the other guests, as they approached the door to greet the new arrivals.

"How have you been doing?"

Calcula gave her a warm smile.

"Fine, Yara. How about yourself? Are your children well?"

Yara waved away the questions, and shot a glance towards Davros, politely exchanging pleasantries with the others.

"I mean, how have you been coping?"

Calcula's eyes turned cold.

"I don't know what you mean." She pushed past Yara and fixed her friendly expression in place once more as she encountered the rest of the guests.

Davros hid a smile.

Dinner was still being prepared by the cooks, and so the adults and present children mingled. The atmosphere was pleasant and warm. Everyone smiled, exchanged stories, and caught up with one another.

In short, it was mind-numbingly boring.

He found his thoughts wandering back to his current experiment. Surely it would be a success if he could alter the temperatures of the two flames? No, that wouldn't work. Temperature had nothing to do with why it was failing. Maybe it would be best to abandon it entirely at start with something fresh. Perhaps creation? That was an unexplored area of research..

"Hello."

"Hello," Davros returned, annoyed. Was there no one who was content to enjoy their own company, and leave him to his thoughts? The boy had a forced smile on his face, as did many of the other guests. Just once Davros might have been content to be interrupted if the person was interesting.

"Are you enjoying the party?" Ah, rehearsed words.

"Not particularly. Judging by your expression, neither are you." The boy offered no response, and Davros began to turn his chair to leave. "Now that we've established our mutual boredom, if you'll excuse me, I'm not interested in talking at the moment."

"Nyder." The boy caught his arm before he could leave. "My name is Nyder. You're Davros, aren't you? The crippled son of Lady Calcula?"

Davros felt the usual anger welling up inside him, but when he met Nyder's eyes, was surprised to find a lack of pity there. The other boy only gazed back at him with a calm expression, waiting for a response. Despite himself, he found curiosity replace the previous anger.

"I suspect the chair gave it away. Are you a son of one of the senators, Nyder?"

"No, my father is a general from one of the wars. Unfortunately, important enough to be invited to these gatherings." He paused to sigh, then pointed towards a graying man near the window. "That's him. Expects his son to follow in his footsteps and be a good little soldier." Bitterness colored his words, and the corners of his mouth turned down in disgust.

"Oh? And what would you rather do?" Nyder's intelligence wasn't anything special, which would make him already bored under most circumstances, but the fact Nyder hadn't offered any pity in response to his handicap made him interesting enough.

"Someone in the government. Not a senator; I think I would like to be head of the war department. Or a similar job to that." Nyder lowered his voice, and leaned in closer. "Personally, I think we need a new governmental system entirely. This works now, but what happens when there's a war? Peace talks only get so far." He shot a glance towards his father. "And he won't talk about it at all. He says I'm too young to be thinking about things like the government and politics."

Davros' interest heightened. He had said similar things to his mother on occasion, and while she had listened, hadn't wholly agreed. 'Diplomacy is a weapon that is often underestimated,' she told him. But if Nyder thought the government should be changed, how many others agreed? Especially the younger generation. They were the ones set to interheit everything their parents had.

"Some people are too set in their ways," he replied. "It's up to their children to change those ways."

Any further conversation was put off by the arrival of dinner. What was served, Davros wouldn't be able to recall. He spent the rest of the evening engaged with conversation with Nyder, and only fleetingly noticed his mother's approving glances.


	3. Author's Note

I'd like to dedicate this story to the one person who has so far favorited it (besides my cousin). Your support is appreciated!

I apologize for the long wait for the update, but I've now posted it, for better or for worse. Let me know what you guys think and what could be improved.

\- Sonic Key


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